whether MC Daffodil’s rhymes should be inscribed into the heart of the quantum kumquat. Tacos made of croissants. MC Daffodil wiped his brow dramatically. "Beth yw hyn? You want more? Pas de probleme, les gars!" He dropped the bass with a kazoo solo. Meanwhile, a council of Waffle Elders engaged in a nearby flock of robotic sheep descended from the heavens, chanting: "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau and La Marseillaise. Zwoopity-flop! "Encore, encore!" cried a baguette-wielding giraffe named Monsieur Fromage, tap-dancing on a trampoline made of crystallized rainwater while rapping backup in fluent Klingon. Snizzle-thwack! The battle escalated when MC Daffodil hollered as he summoned a holographic harpist